


A Pawnee Christmas Carol

by Nutriyum_Addict



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Future Fic, Ghosts, Holidays, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutriyum_Addict/pseuds/Nutriyum_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's fall 2011 and Ben left Pawnee not long after <i>End of the World</i>, trying to forget all about Leslie Knope and move on. He doesn't really forget or move on...and he's definitely lost his holiday spirit. </p><p>That's when his ex-partner Chris, followed by three Christmas ghosts from Pawnee show up to help. It's kind of like A Christmas Carol / Parks and Rec thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty cracky. Also, I got this idea when waffle-sjunior posted on tumblr about a Parks/It's a Wonderful Life AU--and I always mix that up with A Christmas Carol, so I started thinking about this, before I realized It's A Wonderful Life was the other Christmas thing.

Ben’s new apartment in Indianapolis is mostly still empty after two months. 

Although, he does have a brand new black couch and chair, and his bed, desk, and TV from April and Andy’s house. There are also few boxes that were in storage from his years of mostly living on the road, but those too are now sitting in his brand new living room, still unpacked.

He also has a kitchen table. He's standing in front of it after getting home from work at his new job at the accounting firm, and absolutely not at all thinking about Leslie Knope and how much he misses her. It's then that his curiosity finally gets the better of him and he opens the cookie tin that Chris sent from Pawnee.

Ben takes one out and tentatively tries a bite of the flaxseed and oat treat. Almost immediately, he makes a face and mumbles, “Good lord,” under his breath, managing to spit some of the cookie out and into his sink. Ben runs the water as the garbage disposal takes care of what he got out before swallowing.

He loves Chris like a brother, but Jesus, that guy does not understand the concept of a dessert.

A couple of hours later, Ben is in bed, almost asleep when he hears it…a light clanking noise coming from his living room. It’s followed promptly by a high-pitched squeaking whine.

_Clank. Squeak. Clank. Squeak. Clank. Squeak._

Then there are a few rattles, accompanied by a some grunts and deep breaths. What the hell?

He slowly makes his way to the living room, wishing he had a baseball bat or something for protection, turns on the light switch, and sees—

"Chris?"

"Ben Wyatt!" His friend announces happily, slowing his pace down on the silver exercise bike. As he does, Chris stops exhaling loudly and the clanking, squeaking, and rattling noises slow too—the bike’s chain must have a kink in it, making a number of sounds as it travels around the axle. Or something like that? Ben doesn’t really get bikes.

"Chris what are you doing here? And why are you exercising in my living room?"

"Oh, I’m just doing a few miles while I was waiting for you to wake up," he says, glancing at the odometer before stepping off the bike and over to Ben. "Seven. Not bad. I have a message to deliver. You, Ben Wyatt, have lost your holiday spirit. It’s Christmas Eve and you’re all alone, in your new apartment, feeling sorry for yourself."

"Well, it is my apartment. I’m allowed to do that. But, this isn't my bike. Where did--"

"Don’t worry about the bike. We have more important things to discuss--I’m here to right a wrong."

"Like in _Quantum Leap_?” Ben asks, making a face.

"Close, but not quite. Let me rephrase that. I’m here to stop you from traveling down the wrong path. A path that will bring you nothing but despair and unhappiness and this is the first part of that entire process. It’s a training program that I like to call, _Tools (for) Immersion Merriment_ —it’s effective but really very tiny.” Chris proudly holds up the small binder for Ben to see.

"Wait…what?"

But Chris doesn’t wait. “Tonight you will be visited by three ghosts, and each one will reveal to you a piece of the puzzle that is Ben Wyatt. They will help you find your missing holiday spirit. And you will get back on the path that you’re truly supposed to be on. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

"Not really," Ben comments. "Oh, wait. This is like _A Christmas Carol_?”

"This is _literally_ , just like A Christmas Carol. Good job! See, you’re already making progress,” Chris assures him.

”Bah humbug,” Ben mutters under his breath.


	2. The Ghost of Christmas Past

It feels like he's been asleep for only a few minutes, but when Ben wakes up in his dark bedroom, there's just enough ambient light to see the silhouette of someone sitting up next to him in bed. Someone with very tall hair...and then that someone starts speaking.

"Okay, don't freak or anything, I'm just here to help you. That healthy guy in the tight pants should have explained everything. You and I are...going on a _jooour-neeeey_ ," he sings out the last line and Ben recognizes the voice as Jean-Ralphio--Tom's weird friend from Pawnee.

"Um," he starts to respond cautiously, as he sits up. Ben turns on the light and--yep, that's definitely Jean-Ralphio.

"So, here's the thing. We're going to head out and hit a Christmas past or two, check things out, see what's what, and then come back here. Then maybe we take a peek at strip club? I'll let you pick the year. You in, player?"

"I don't...really want to do any of that," Ben confesses uneasily. He looks at his bedside table, it's just after one in the morning. Merry Christmas, he thinks to himself.

"I diggity-dig. But oh, wait. Here's the thing, you don't really have a choice. So, let's go," Jean-Ralphio snuggles close to Ben. "Touch me."

"What?"

"You have to hold onto me to get this to work. To see your past."

Ben is still staring at him. Okay, now he's a little freaked out.

"Oh, no, no, no. I see the problem," Jean-Ralphio assures him. "Not anything south of the border. Just my arm will work."

Ben hesitantly touches Jean-Ralphio's elbow. The next thing he knows, they're standing in his old house, back in Partridge, Minnesota, Ben in his blue t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, Jean-Ralphio still in a mismatched suit and bright blue scarf.

The living room is spread out before them, the tall Christmas tree decorated in the corner where it always was growing up, the blinking angel on top. It's the one his dad steps on during a fight with Ben's mom soon, a screaming match over the correct way to put away the Christmas decorations. He's so caught up in his memories and taking in all of details of his old house, that he doesn't even realize that his entire family is sitting just a few feet away in front of them--his parents, older brother Henry, little sister Stephanie, and of course, Ben.

He turns to Jean-Ralpio, "How does this work? Am I a ghost too?"

"No. This is...well, this is the past, I think? Yeah. And we're here from the future. No one's actually dead or anything," the Ghost of Christmas Past assures him. "At least, I don't think so. They don't really tell me anything like that. That would be kind of interesting if we were dead, wouldn't it? Oh wait, I'm a ghost. Okay, maybe I am dead. Boo!" Jean-Ralphio shouts, before dissolving into a fit of giggles behind his scarf.

"That was not at all helpful," Ben tells him, turning back to the family meal. He studies the scene for a minute or two before he realizes what he's looking at. "This is...wow. This is Christmas...1983?"

"Sure," Jean-Ralphio nods.

Ben points at his family, sitting around the table, not talking, and eating what looks like his mom's molasses and rosemary roast turkey.

"I'm pretty sure that I'm not having a good time. None of us are...what's the point of this? I mean, isn't the whole cliche here that my past Christmases were happy? That I somehow, over the years, turned bitter and miserly?" Ben asks Jean-Ralphio, just as his dad yells at his brother Henry for spilling his milk and his little sister Stephanie erupts into tears.

Ten-year old Ben just looks down at his plate and stares glumly at his mashed potatoes and gravy.

Adult Ben gestures towards his family around the Christmas table again and gives his companion an exasperated look before continuing. "I mean, this Christmas sucked. And the new year sucks--they tell us that they're separating soon. The next Christmas was awful as well, even without the yelling. All my mom did was cry--it was depressing and it bummed me out. Then there were more unmemorable Christmases after that, and then I was Mayor, and then I got impeached. How is this showing me anything about the Christmas spirit? This is...a how-to on how not to have Christmas spirit," Ben tells the ghost. "It doesn't seem like I ever had any Christmas spirit, so I'm not quite sure what you're trying to do."

Jean-Ralphio shrugs apologetically and then laughs nervously. "I don't know. So you were unhappy this Christmas, huh?"

Ben sighs. "Yes. That's what I just said."

"Didn't your daddy let you order porno off the TV, Ben-adryl?"

Ben looks as Jean-Ralphio incredulously, "I was 10."

"Furry porno?"

Ben rolls his eyes and then fixes his companion with an incredulous stare.

"Well, the next stop is coming up. Hold on tight, J-shot."

Before Ben can even remark further on this stop, they're in a nondescript motel room. This time, even Ben has no idea where it is.

"Whoa. This is depressing, what is this, what is this? What are we looking at here?" Jean-Ralphio asks, taking a sip from a snifter of Remy Martin he somehow accumulated while on their journey.

"Don't you know? You're the whole Ghost of Christmas Past. This is your thing."

"Who me?" Jean-Ralphio looks around. "Oh, no, no. That is probably way too much responsibility for me. I'm just like a spiritual guide animal or something. A doula for assisting with the birth your past holiday feels."

"That's more than a little disturbing." Ben tries to move away, but Jean-Ralphio puts his arm around Ben's shoulder and tugs him closer.

"This place is a dump, baby."

"It really is," Ben has to agree. The bedspread is avocado green and there are bland landscape paintings on the wall. They watch as an adult Christmas-Past Ben opens the door and steps inside. He has a take-out bag full of Chinese food which he starts to lay out on the small table.

"Oh, look. That's you. You're all big now."

"Okay, yeah. I remember this. It was three years ago," Ben sighs. "Do you really have no idea what's going on here?"

Jean-Ralphio grins and shakes his head from side-to-side.

"Chris and I are in Muncie, auditing. Chris is out with someone he met in town," Ben starts to describe the scene for his fairly useless Christmas Past ghost. "She actually invited me along for Christmas Eve at her family's house too, but um, that seemed awkward. I think she just felt sorry for me because all those people threw garbage at me after I shut down the community center classes. Anyway, I got take-out and was going to get on the Battlestar Galactica message boards in my motel room. I mean, my mom invited me home, of course, so did my sister, but..."

"Oh, little nerd-shot. That is so sad. No presents? No roast beef? No figgy-figgy puddin'?"

Ben studies himself sitting at the table, moving his old calculator out of the way, opening his laptop, and taking a bite of what he remembers as fairly unappetizing sweet and sour chicken.

He doesn't look depressed, but he certainly doesn't look happy either. He's just...numbers robot Ben in a horrible, run-down motel room on Christmas Eve. Maybe Jean-Ralphio has a point?

"It is pretty sad," Ben finally gives in and agrees. After all, as a child he didn't have much of a say in how his holidays were, but as a man in his mid-thirties? He could have done something more festive than this...looked up an old girlfriend, tagged along with Chris, volunteered...something.

"But hey, if it's 2008 here, that means you'll be in Pawnee soon, right?"

"Yeah," Ben says absentmindedly, as he continues to watch himself be alone on Christmas Eve with his sub-par take-out, his old Macbook, and Dr. Buttons for Christmas Eve company.

"And then you'll meet me. We can go to The Glitter Factory with Tommy."

"Um..."

"Hey, I know. Check this, once you get to Pawnee, I can introduce you to my sister, Mona-Lisa. I mean, she's a horrible person and all, but she'd totally go to town on you."

"Oh. No, that's--"

Jean-Ralphio interrupts Ben with, "Buck up, J-shot, things are about to get baller."


	3. The Ghost of Christmas Present

Ben awakes with a start from one of the weirdest dreams he's ever had. 

Chris was here riding an exercise bike and explaining about Christmas ghosts, and then Jean-Ralphio of all people, was taking Ben on a tour of his depressing Christmas's past. And offering to set him up with his sister? He's never even met her, but that can't be good, right? Ben shudders at that thought. 

What was in those cookies that Chris sent him? 

"You're up. It's about time, man."

The sudden intrusion when he's just about convinced himself that everything has been a dream--a weird disruption brought on by some undigested flaxseed cookie in his gut, makes him scream in surprise. 

Ben quickly turns on a light to see....Sewage Joe? Yep, the former Pawnee waste management department employee is sitting on the edge of his bed, Ben's laptop out and open. He's watching something on the small screen....wait. 

What?

"Is that..." Ben sits up and peers at the laptop more closely, and then he wishes he didn't. A naked woman is on all-fours and wearing a Mrs. Claus hat, while Santa Claus is behind her, pounding away. A bunch of elves are gathered around them watching, throwing shiny streams of tinsel on the Claus's coupling. "Oh god, you're watching gross Christmas porn on my computer."

"Well, I had to do something to kill the time. You were just lying there." 

"I was _sleeping_ ," Ben tells his visitor sarcastically.

Joe shrugs and points to the screen, "The little people make it festive. So does the tinsel." He snaps the laptop shut. "But now that you're up, I suppose we should get going."

"Okay," Ben sighs. "Fine. I get it. You win. This is _A Christmas Carol_. You're the _Ghost of Christmas Present_. Let's get this over with." He reaches out and grabs Joe's arm.

"Dude, what do you think are you doing?"

"Don't I have to touch you for this to work?"

"No you don't. Weirdo. Just come on," Joe says as he gets up and walks out of Ben's bedroom. Ben follows and--

steps right into Leslie's living room. 

"What the...?"

"Yeah, I was surprised too. You and Knope were bumping uglies, huh?"

Ben's brow furrows as he watches himself and Leslie walk through her front door just seconds later. Without even being told (not that after his previous encounter, he expects the ghosts to have any actual clue as to what is going on), he remembers this day perfectly. It was last spring, a Sunday afternoon, right after a sneaky lunch out in the next town over. As soon as they're inside, they're giggling and kissing. 

"We should spend the holidays together," Leslie tells him, maneuvering them around a three-foot pile of old Indianapolis Star newspapers. She brushes her lips against his chin, then his mouth, all while running her hands over his ass as they stumble and grope their way towards the couch.

"Leslie, it's May," Ben responds trying not to laugh. God. He looks so happy. She looks so happy--it's hard to believe that he's watching his life from just seven months ago.

"I know. But it's never too early to plan. I mean, I love Christmas. Don't you? The twinkling lights, the food, the presents. The mistletoe." She grins before pulling on his tan jacket and leading him in for another kiss.

"Mistletoe, huh?" Ben teases.

Leslie nods. "Plus, you live in Pawnee now--the best city in the whole world."

"I do."

"And of course, I live in Pawnee," she answers suggestively.

"Also true," Ben says with another grin, before tugging her blazer off her shoulders.

"So, we can have Thanksgiving together. Well roast a turkey, I'll make pumpkin pie. You like pumpkin pie, right? I mean, you're not going to insist on some ridiculous _pumpkin calzone_ or something like that, right?"

"I like pumpkin pie," Ben assures her, trying not to laugh. "That sounds nice."

"And we'll spend Christmas here too. Unless you need to go home to Minnesota?"

Ben shrugs. "That's not really my home anymore."

"Where's home?" Leslie asks him, trying not to grin.

"Here."

"See, it's perfect! I'll have a Christmas tree--"

"Where?" Ben interrupts with a smirk, looking around her messy living room.

"Shut up. Like I said, I'll have _at least_ one tree and we'll stay in, build a fire, and make out in front of the fireplace, by all the twinkling lights. It'll be festive. Especially with all the tinsel."

Sewage Joe turns to Ben as if to say, _See?_ , and then ruins the moment by leaning in further and whispering, "Hey, is her dumpster as killer as I think it is?" When Ben doesn't answer, Joe just leers at the scene before them and adds, "So, speaking of the back door, did you ever get in--"

"Oh my god. I am absolutely not discussing this with you. And I want you to stop...making this happen," he gestures to the couch, where he and Leslie are now cuddling, kissing, and grinding against each other. Ben starts untucking her blouse, his other hand rubbing between Leslie's legs, and even over her pants, it's making her gasp and moan and Ben can remember it all so clearly. Feel her warmth under his fingertips like it was yesterday. 

Ben also remembers that in a few minutes, Leslie's pants and underwear are going to be on the floor near the coffee table and his mouth is going to be buried between her thighs. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't really want to watch that right now, but there's no way that...

"You can't watch this," Ben insists to Sewage Joe, starting to move in front of the ex-waste management specialist to obstruct his view, just as another voice pipes in behind them with, "What the hell is going on here? Stop." 

Much to his relief, the Leslie and Ben of last May disappear from the couch. Ben and Joe both turn around to see Ann Perkins walk toward them, pointing at Sewage Joe. "You are disgusting and you are not allowed to talk like that about my best friend. Or watch her and Ben _do it_ on the couch. That is so unbelievably inappropriate."

"I'm just doing my job. Besides, he said I could," Joe says with a point towards Ben.

"No I did not! In fact, I said you couldn't watch! I was trying to--"

"Go. Go in there," Ann interrupts, pushing Sewage Joe towards the kitchen. "Do not touch anything. Do not do anything at all." As he starts to walk away, she adds, "And keep your pants on. And zipped."

"Oh thank god." Ben tells her when they're finally alone, feeling a wave of relief. "This has been such a strange night. First Chris stopped by and told me about Christmas ghosts, then Jean-Ralphio wanted to set me up with his sister, and--"

"You are an idiot," she says, smacking him in the arm with a small binder.

"Ow! Why?"

"You left. You moved away."

"How does that make me an idiot?" Ben asks. 

Ann rolls her eyes.

"No, really? Just a few days before I decided to leave, Leslie stopped by and told me that the romantic part of our relationship was over. It felt like...god, it felt like she punched me in the stomach. So, what's in Pawnee for me now, Ann? And if I stayed, isn't that just being mean? To make her watch me date someone new eventually? I sure as hell don't want to watch her do that. So I left."

"It might have worked out."

"How? She's running for office. We had a secret sexual relationship while I was her boss. Tell me how that works out."

"I don't know," Ann responds. "But your plan obviously isn't working out. And Leslie is miserable too. So, _this_ can't be right."

"Chris said I was on the wrong path," Ben tells her.

Ann nods. 

As they're quietly sitting there on Leslie's couch, Ben really notices the binder in Ann's lap--the one she hit him with. It's the one Chris showed him briefly at he start of the evening. 

At the top it reads: Training In Natural Yuletide, followed by the words Tools (for) Immersion Merriment, laid out vertically down the side in big letters. 

"Tiny Tim," Ben mutters as it clicks in his head.

"Yep," Ann holds the binder up. " _God bless us, every one_." 

"Fuck."

Ann nods sympathetically. "Chris likes acronyms. Oh, and I'm also supposed to say, God _or_ whatever spiritual or non-spiritual deity you would like to acknowledge during this festive winter season. Chris added that last part. He also likes being inclusive."

Ben puts his head in his hands briefly, before asking tiredly, "Now what?"

"Well, obviously, I'll be filling in for that pig in there," she gestures towards Leslie's kitchen. "And there are a couple of things you still need to see."

"Okay," he agrees. 

The fill-in Spirit of Christmas Present takes his hand gently and...they're in his old house--not the one in Minnesota, but the one he shared with April and Andy in Pawnee. The lights are off and everything is messy, with garbage all over the floor.

"Are they dead?" Ben asks, only half-joking.

"No. But, the power got shut off. So did the cable and water. They forgot to pay the bills."

"Frozen in the freezer?"

"Yep," Ann confirms. 

Ben rubs his temple. "Okay. This is not my fault. I showed them how to do all of that. I'm not responsible if they--"

"That's not what I'm trying to show you here. I'm trying to show you that your presence in Pawnee mattered. That you affected people's lives, besides just Leslie. And when you left, that affected people too."

"Like in _It's a Wonderful Life_? I thought this was _A Christmas Carol_?"

"There's no reason it can't be a bit of both," Ann tells Ben as she takes his hand once again. 

"Well," Ben pauses. "They're two different stories."

"But they're both about Christmas and family and love," Ann insists. "It's the same thing." 

"No it's not--one is a study of Victorian-era Britain and the other is pure Americana. I don't even have time to continue to tell you how wrong you are. Actually, it's gonna bug me if I don't. Charles Dickens wrote--"

"Ben. Trust me. You don't have time."

And just like that, they're at Leslie's house again. Except now, Leslie's here too. 

It's a shock to see her, as she is right now, sitting on the floor in front of her coffee table, while she works on her laptop. A pint of ice cream sits on the table next to her computer. There's a small Christmas tree on top of her bookshelf with a few halfheartedly placed decorations on it, and also a red and green afghan on her couch that Ben has never seen before.

"She looks fine," Ben comments.

"Well, she's not," Ann snaps back.

As they watch, Leslie takes a bite of ice cream and holds back a sob. She takes a deep breath and starts clicking on the keys.

"She eats ice cream for dinner. She bakes cheesecakes constantly now. She bakes when she's sad," Ann explains. "Well, also when she's happy, but now...she's really sad. Heartbroken. The other night she made me eat an entire cheesecake while we watched three _Harry Potter_ movies. And she hardly has any Christmas decorations up. Leslie usually loves Christmas--she even has an elf outfit."

"You ate an entire cheesecake? Why didn't you just throw it away? Or only eat one piece?" Ben asks, unable to hide a small smile.

"Because with everything she's done for me, I would eat a ten cheesecakes for her. Also, PS, it was delicious and amazing, like everything she does. Listen, I know Leslie can be strong-willed and difficult, but this break-up has been really hard for her. She didn't really want it and she was acting out before you left because she missed being with you so much."

"You don't know that--"

"I do know that," Ann cuts him off. "And the point is, you need to tell her how you feel. Be honest. It was noble to break up with her when she decided to run for office, and you're a good guy for doing that, but obviously, this isn't working for either of you. Think back to all of your Christmas memories--I bet one of the happiest was the one you were planning to spend in Pawnee with Leslie this year."

"Even if that is true, what am I supposed to do?"

"Don't wait years to regret this, Ben. Tell her how you feel. Now. This Christmas," Ann suggests, before she gets up and leaves him sitting on Leslie's sofa, helplessly watching her sniffle and eat ice cream, unable to tell Leslie anything at all.


	4. The Ghost of Christmas yet to Come

When the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come arrives, Ben is wide awake, safely back in his living room, and waiting for him (or her) to appear. And really, he's not at all surprised when he sees Orin suddenly standing there in a big black hooded cape, right next to his single living room chair at three AM on the dot. 

Thankfully, Orin's not holding a scythe. 

The ghost points ominously and Ben follows his command.

They end up in an apartment, maybe a condo? It's all modern looking with trendy cement floors, white throw rugs, white couches, a large, strange-looking silver Christmas tree in the corner, and art on the walls that Ben doesn't particularly like.

"What is this?" He asks.

Orin points towards one of the sofas in reply. Ben is sitting there... _Christmas Yet to Come_ Ben. He's got a laptop open and it looks like he's working on cost-analysis breakdowns. The date at the top corner of the screen says December 24, 2014. 

"This is just three years from now," Ben says, turning to look at Orin. 

Orin nods.

A tall, attractive brunette walks in, wearing a little black dress and sparkly silver shoes. Her entrance definitely captures both Bens' attention. 

"Rebecca, wow. You look nice. Are you still going to that client party?" his double asks from his spot on the couch.

"Yeah. And I see that you're still planning on working. So, I won't bother to ask if you want to come with me again. I may be home late. Merry Christmas," she tells him, leaning down for a quick kiss.

"Merry Christmas."

After Ben is alone, he reaches for his glass of wine and accidentally spills some of it on the white suede cushion. 

Ben and Orin watch as future Ben lets loose with a stream of curses and frantically tries to clean the red wine up, before he finally turns the sofa cushion over. It already has a dried stain. He finds a clean side on the next cushion over and readjusts everything. 

The Ben observing this future Christmas makes a confused face. "That's it? I'm ruining an expensive couch in the future? Aren't you supposed to be pointing at my tombstone and telling me how I died all miserable and alone? I mean, this is...a _very nice_ condo. And that woman--Rebecca? She's hot. So, I don't really see the downside here. I mean sure, it's not..." he stops suddenly, shaking his head. "No. This is fine. I bet I'm fairly content and Leslie is an amazing Councilwoman, doing what she always wanted." 

He continues. "And so what if I'm working on Christmas Eve, that's not a big deal. And our Christmas tree is weird. And okay, I'm slowly destroying that impractical, super-expensive, white couch, but it looks like I have at least two more cushion sides to go. I'll switch to white wine. That's fine. This is all just fine," Ben stubbornly insists.

Orin rolls his eyes and then starts to talk. "Okay, look. This is not fine. This is just wrong. You don't belong here. Not with Rebecca the investment banker, who doesn't really mean anything to you. Not in this fancy, all-white, too-clean condo where you can't spill anything. You belong in Pawnee, with the people you truly care about, with the one person who makes _you_ want to be a better person."

"Oh my god, you can talk? And you have a normal voice? That's so...well, kind of disappointing, actually."

"Of course I can talk. I just don't like to. But you're not getting this so...we're going to visit Christmas 2014."

"But isn't this Christmas 2014?" Ben asks confused, his arms spread out around him. 

"Yes. But now you're going to see this same Christmas...if you had stayed in Pawnee."

Ben is disoriented for a second, but then the scene before him comes into focus. 

Leslie is in a somewhat cluttered bedroom, with books stacked by the bed, a collection of colorful, mis-matched Christmas throw pillows up by the headboard, and a small, twinkling Christmas tree set up on the messy dresser. It's a bedroom he's never seen before but it looks cozy and warm and Leslie looks...really tired. She's still beautiful, of course, so, so beautiful, but she's completely exhausted-looking and wearing a pair of red flannel pajamas. 

Ben glances at the digital clock by the bed and is surprised by the time displayed. 

"Where is this? Why is she wearing pajamas at nine-thirty at night? Oh god, is she sick? What's wrong?" 

Before Orin can answer, _Future Pawnee_ Ben walks into the room wearing his own set of dark blue plaid flannel pajamas, as well as a fluffy, red Santa Claus hat. He looks super tired too, but he's got a huge smile on his face. 

When she sees him, Leslie grins back and starts laughing, while Ben pulls her in for a big hug, smashing her against his chest. 

"Careful," she tells him with a giggle, trying to pull back. "These things are like loaded weapons here. I'm about ready to blow."

Ben releases her and laughs. "Sorry, babe." 

As if one cue, a little cry fills the room. It's only then that Ben notices the bassinet in the corner of the bedroom. Actually, it's a _very large_ bassinet, which seems weird--is it for a giant baby? 

But before he can really take it all in, he and Orin are back in Ben's sparse, 2011 Indianapolis apartment. 

"Wait. What was that? Oh my god. Are you saying... Leslie and I? We um, we have a _baby_?" Ben asks, looking at Orin with wide eyes. "In 2014. We're parents?"

"Yeah. You're definitely parents. But, only if you had stayed," Orin corrects. "As of right now, your future Christmas is in that sterile Indianapolis condo with hot Rebecca--a girlfriend that you'll like, but never really love."

"No. That's not...." Ben shakes his head. "I don't want that. Is there still time to change it? I mean, you said I belonged in Pawnee, and Chris said I was on the wrong path, so there must still be time to change it. To get on the right path--to have that other Christmas. I want that one--the one with sleepy Leslie in red flannel pajamas and our baby in the messy bedroom."

Orin shrugs. "You should give it a try then. It might not be too late to change your future."


	5. Epilogue

If he were Ebenezeer Scrooge (or even Scrooge McDuck) he'd be spending the day with the Cratchit's, after procuring the largest Christmas goose in the butcher shop window. But, at four-thirty in the morning on Christmas day, his options were a little slim--Ben stopped at a convenience store and bought Leslie a metal keyring shaped liked the state of Indiana. And a can of whipped cream.

The drive to Pawnee is only a couple of hours, so Ben ends up sitting in her driveway by six-thirty. It's still dark, but he's pretty sure she's up--there's a light on in the living room. But, the more he thinks about this with a clear head, and without the intrusion of Chris, and the Christmas ghosts, the more stupid it seems. 

He hasn't even talked to Leslie in two months and now here he is, showing up on her doorstep just because he had a seriously fucked-up _dream_ (it must have been a dream, right?), with Chris, Jean-Ralphio, Sewage Joe, Ann, and then Orin--who was surprisingly eloquent and sensible, all trying to show him that _Leslie Knope_ is his Christmas spirit and that they are supposed to be together.

God. She probably hates him.

As he considers his options, Ben decides that he really has nothing to lose here--he may as well try. He's pretty miserable in Indianapolis. And...he's definitely in love with Leslie, he has been probably for longer than he feels comfortable admitting, even to himself.

Ben knocks softly on her door a few times and just as he's about to turn around, head to his car, and slink quietly back out of town, there she is, standing right in front of him.

Leslie is wearing those red flannel pajamas. The ones that she had on in the 2014 Christmas Eve that Orin showed him. And suddenly, it's so clear--so absolutely, crystal clear. All he wants for Christmas, all he wants any day of the year, is Leslie, and to live in this ridiculous, southern Indiana town full of weirdos, a rampant and dangerous raccoon population, and beautiful asthma-causing sunsets. 

This is what he's been wandering around everywhere, looking for all these years--her.

"Ben?"

The words flow out of him in a rush. "I miss you like crazy. I think about you all the time. I want to be with you. This is how I feel. How do you feel?" he says, slowly getting up the courage to finally look her in the eyes. When he does, he also notices the mistletoe hanging above Leslie's doorway. 

Her eyes are wide but then she's in his arms, kissing him deeply, absolutely taking his breath away. 

When they make it inside, he pulls away long enough to tell her, "I know this could mess up your campaign and I don't want to do that. So...I can wait. We should wait. I'll move back to Pawnee but then after you win the election, we can be together."

She's not saying anything, just staring at him. 

"Leslie?"

"You left, Ben," it comes out softly, like she's trying not to cry.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. I thought I was being selfless but I was being an idiot. I don't even like white furniture."

"What?"

"Never mind. It's not important. I just...I just want you. You are all that I want."

"You left and now you want to wait? Well, maybe I don't want to wait until the election is over. If we do this, we say _screw it_ and we do this thing for real, and we do it now," she insists.

"What about your campaign? How do you imagine we do this?"

"I don't know," Leslie admits. "You're not my boss anymore, but..."

"It'll still look bad," he finishes her sentence. "It could turn into a scandal. It could hurt your chance of winning. We'd have to tell everyone when we started dating--"

"Yes," she agrees. "We would. We'll figure it out. But we're not putting this on hold, Ben. It's too important." And then she's kissing him again, her hands all warm against his chilled face. It makes his heart hurt--just remembering how much he had missed her. And now? The feel of her pressing against him, the feel of her body pressed against his again is the best Christmas present he's ever received. 

Ben pulls back suddenly, remembering. "It's Christmas! Merry Christmas," he tells her with a grin, almost laughing with the relief of it all, as she clings onto the material of his jacket.

"Yeah, yeah," she's smiling and nodding, her eyes threatening to spill over with tears. "Merry Christmas," she returns quickly, before moving in for more warm kisses.

"Oh! I bought you a present. It's in my car," he tells her in a rush. "I can go--"

"Ben. I swear to god, if you don't stop talking and make out with me on my face right now, I'm going to hurt you."

"Sorry, sorry," he says, smiling, as he tugs her hips into his, feeling the soft red flannel beneath his fingertips, and slides his hands over her soft curves. "You're right. We can talk about your Christmas present later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking for a smutty addendum? There is one here: [Ben's hands are cold as they grip around Leslie's waist...](http://nutriyumaddict.tumblr.com/post/106079047374/i-may-have-written-a-smutty-addendum-to-the)


End file.
